


Just the Way We Want It [Yandere!2P!FACE]

by Zuliet



Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:50:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3487208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zuliet/pseuds/Zuliet





	Just the Way We Want It [Yandere!2P!FACE]

Checking her watch, [Name] walked out of the back door of the bar. It was 2 AM, and the only thing that lit the dark road was a few street lamps. She sighed, knowing that she promised her friends she’d be home hours ago. Of course, it wasn’t really her fault since her boss, the pervert he was, sprung another surprise graveyard shift on her. But [Name] knew it was just so he could stare at her longer. Get more glimpses under her skirt when he purposely dropped things, or pushed things off the table, and made her clean them up.

“Ch...It’s only for another month, and then you can quit,” she reminded herself. She had applied for, and gotten, a position at a local music store that was opening up the following month. [Name] sighed and put her hair behind her ear, chuckling to herself. “The guys’ll be happy. No more Ms. No-Fun.” 

“Hey, ___,” grunted a voice from behind her. Upon turning, the girl found her boss standing a few feet away. She raised an eyebrow and tossed a lofty wave at him.

“Um...hey, Rhentz,” [Name] hesitantly greeted back, staying cautious of the man’s movements. “What’s up?”

“I noticed you walking to your car all alone. Thought I’d make sure that no creeps got to ya.” [Name] gave him a wary half smile,

“Well, um, thanks. But, as you can see, the street lamps and I are fine. There’s no need to do that.” Her boss took a few steps towards her, causing [Name] to back away in response.

“Honestly, a pretty young woman like you. You’d be an easy target.” Something smug hid in the last part of Rhentz’s statement. [Name] reached slowly into her bag, and felt around for her Mace. Rhentz chuckled and pulled a can out of his pocket, “Looking for this, [Name]?” The girl’s eyes widened and she physically looked in her bag to find that the can was, indeed, gone.  
“H-How did you get that?” The man continued to advance, tossing the can of self-defence spray up and down in his hand, a wide evil grin on his face.

“It’s quite easy to get into the staff lockers, you know. Especially when you run the place.” [Name] glared at him,

“You’re twisted.” Turning on her heel, [Name] tried to sprint away but a hand caught her upper arm. “Ah!”

“You’re not going anywhere – not ‘til we’ve had a little fun.” [Name] felt her insides churn, the thought that any woman would be attracted to a greasy scum bag like him seemed blasphemous. [Name] felt like she was going to die, all the things she learned in her self-defence class slipping her mind. Silently, she tried to stumble through the five weapons and the five vulnerable spots. Um...feet...fingers...legs...a-arms...voice! It was at the last one that [Name] did the only thing she could think of – scream. Her boss flinched, clamping a hand over her mouth. “Shut up!” [Name]’s breathing became heavy with panic as she started to be taken in another direction.

“Hey, buddy!” called a voice, [Name] couldn’t turn her head to look, but she didn’t need to when she heard the next phrase. “Ya got two seconds ta let doll face there go.” Al! she thought in relief, the guys are here! They’ll help me. 

“I don’t think so, pal, go find your own whore.” [Name] grunted at this, trying to elbow her captor in the gut, but she only ended up with finger nails digging into the soft flesh of her arm.

“[Name]? A whore? I don’t think so. You got the wrong person there if that’s what you think.” That voice she could tell was Matt’s; he never took lightly to anyone tossing the words ‘whore’ or ‘slut’ at her. Even if they were used jokingly. From behind her, [Name] heard light footsteps and a moment later was free. Turning, she found Oliver and Francois with a grip on her boss; Francois with his pocket knife to his throat. 

“I don’t think you want play this game, Môn Ami,” stated Francois in a bored tone when Rhentz tried to wriggle out of their grip. Oliver looked over at [Name], who still stood in the middle of the parking lot.

“Why don’t you head home, Poppet?” said the pinkette, “we’ll be there soon.” [Name] glanced around, each of her friends’ face were written over with rage, softening only enough to give her a look that read ‘go home.’ The girl giggled nervously, and then nodded.

“A-Alright. I – I’ll see you there,” [Name] stuttered, and then turned to head for her car. The group watched as [Name]’s car left the parking lot.

“O-Okay. She’s gone. You guys wanna let me go?” asked Rhentz, but only got Francois’ knife digging into this throat in response. Al chuckled darkly, poising his bat over his shoulder.

“‘You’re not going anywhere,’” Al quoted, his features contorting into a sneer. “‘Not ‘til we’ve had a little fun.’” With that, Al swung his nail covered bat right into Rhentz’s stomach, causing the man to cough out blood. The group watched, amused, as Rhentz’s legs trembled. Next was Matt’s turn. Putting his hockey stick under Rhentz’s chin, Matt lifted up the man’s head to look at him. Giving Rhentz a demented half smile, Matt propped his hockey stick on his shoulder.

“Yah got a lot of nerve,” he noted, swing his hockey stick to connect with the man’s face. “Messing with [Name] like that.” Rhentz coughed again, and spit blood and teeth onto the ground while blood dripped from the long gash left from the hockey stick.

“I – I won’t touch her again – I swear! Just let me go!” he begged, tugging weakly at Oliver and Francois. Francois grunted in amusement, a smirk spreading over his lips.

“I – we – don’t think so...we’re to make you wish you ‘ad never ‘ave been born.” Oliver and the other chuckled in agreement. The words hadn’t yet sunk into Rhentz’s head when Francois shoved the knife up under his ribs. 

“We don’t take lightly to others messing around with our property,” stated Oliver, glancing around to his brothers and then back at their catch. “You’ve tread where you shouldn’t have. And now you’ll pay dearly.” Francois and Oliver dropped the man to the ground and watched as he tried to crawl away. But Al stood in front of him,

“Where ya goin’?” asked the American, tapping his bat against his palm. “We’re just starting to have fun; why don’t you stay a while?!” Al swung his bat and hit Rhentz under his chin, sending him flying back a few feet. The group of four circled that man on the ground, who was now grovelling for his life. 

“That hasn’t worked before. It won’t work now,” said Matt lowly, “anybody who messes with [Name], pays with their life.” And so it was that the hits started to come continuously; a bat, a hockey stick, a foot, a knife, a fist, a spritz from the can of Mace. That really sent them cackling as he writhed when it got in his wounds. It wasn’t long before blood covered the pavement, and the man on the ground was almost unrecognizable. Raising his bloodied bat above his head, Al grinned,

“Say ‘goodnight,’ you bastard.” And then down came the bat, causing a sickening pop! and blood spray.

Rhentz was dead.

Bloody and unrecognizable with smashed skull.

The guys smirked down at their work, and then at each other. Nudging the body with his hockey, Matt said,

“And [Name] can – will – never know. Nobody will.”

“Yes,” said Oliver darkly, “and no one will ever take our Poppet away.” 

The next morning, the news covered the murder case of Rhentz...

“Earlier this morning, the beaten, disfigured body of Killigan Rhentz was found here behind his bar,” said the reporter, “upon farther investigation, the police report that the activity is gang related. And that a large stash of drugs was confiscated from the compound just a few hours ago, this said to be the reason Mr. Rhentz has been murdered.” [Name] sat watching the news, munching away at her favourite cereal. 

“I knew he was a slim ball,” she stated, swallowing her mouthful of cereal. “At least, since they’re shutting down the bar, this means that I don’t have to go back to work there anymore.” Matt plopped on the couch beside her, slinging an arm over the back of the couch behind her.

“Yeah, and to think - we even let him live after you left,” he chuckled; [Name] turned her wide eyes to him.

“Mattie!” she yelled, “you wouldn’t have actually killed him – would you?” Matt laughed at her, ruffling her bed head. 

“Are you kidding? No. Scare him a little maybe. But not kill him. What do you take us for? Lunatics?” [Name] laughed and shook her head. 

“What are you assholes laughing about this early in the morning?” yawned Al coming downstairs in his boxers, joining [Name] and Matt on the couch. 

“Nothing. Mattie’s just being dumb,” [Name] stated, lightly elbowing the Canadian in the ribs. 

“Am not,” he groaned lightly, swiping the remote and changing the channel. 

“Oh! Do I hear cartoons?!” cheered Oliver, running down the stairs in pale blue pyjama shorts and a pink nightshirt. Setting her bowl on the coffee table, [Name] turned to nod at him. 

“Just in time!” she cheered, and a moment later had Oliver plopped sideways in her lap while Al and Matt complained loudly. It was shortly after that Francois joined them, plopping on the far end of the sectional. 

This was how the guys wanted it.

Just the five of them.

France.  
America.   
Canada.   
England. 

And the single human girl that could get them to behave.


End file.
